Shew’d bollocking David her bare arse.
Now Sir Watkin ap Williams ap Wynne,
Who came from whence came John ap Morgan,
Roar’d out to the band-leading Bates,
To drown the foul noise with bur organ:
So Bates, by a blast of the bellows,
Made peace and sweet sounds rule the roast;
Then drink about, laughing fellows—
For f⸺g and fiddling’s my toast.